HERCULES OETAEUS

Nurse[in soliloquy, whilePhaedraseems to have fallen in a fainting fit]: Now is her fault discovered. Soul of mine,Why dost thou stand in dumb amaze? This crimeWe must throw back upon the man himself,720And charge him with a guilty love, ourselves.Sin must be hid by sin. The safest wayIs to go straight forward on the course you fear.Who is to know, since no one saw the deed,Whether we dared, ourselves, or suffered ill?[Raising her voice in a loud cry.]Help! Help! ye dames of Athens! Faithful band725Of slaves, bring aid! Behold Hippolytus,With vile adultery, attacks the queen!He has her in his power! He threatens death!At point of sword he storms her chastity!There, he has gone in haste, and left behindHis sword in trembling, panic-stricken flight.This proof of guilt we'll keep. But first restore730The stricken queen to life. Let all remainJust as they are, her locks disheveled, torn,To show how great a wrong she has endured.Back to the city bear her now. Revive,My mistress. Why dost seek to harm thyselfAnd shun thy comrades' eyes. For be thou sureNot circumstance but will can make impure.735[Exeunt.]Chorus:He fled away like the storm-blast wild,More swift than cloud-compelling winds;And swifter than the comet's torch,When, driven before the wind, it speedsWith long-drawn, trailing fires.740Let fame, that boasts of her olden times,Compare with thine all ancient charms:Beyond compare does thy beauty shine,Clear and bright as the full-orbed moon,When, with waxing hours in splendor joined,745Night long she speeds her shining car,And her ruddy face so brightly gleams,That the fires of the lesser stars are dimmed.He is fair as the messenger of night,When he leads the evening shadows in,Himself new bathed in the ocean's foam;750Or when, the darkness put to flight,He heralds the dawn—bright Lucifer.And thou of the thyrsus, Indian Bacchus,With the flowing locks of endless youth,With thine ivy-clad spear the tigers driving,755And thy turban set on thy hornéd head:Not thus will thy glorious locks outshineThe unadorned hair of Hippolytus.And admire not thy beauty over much,For fame has spread the story far,How Phaedra's sister preferred to thee,760O Bromius, a mortal man.Ah beauty, a doubtful boon art thou,The gift of a fleeting hour! How swiftOn flying feet thou glidest away!So flowery meadows of the springThe summer's burning heat devours,765When midday's raging sun rides high,And night's brief round is hurried through.As the lilies languish on their stems,So pleasing tresses fail the head;And swiftly is the radiance dimmed770Which gleams from the tender cheeks of youth!Each day hath its spoil from the lovely form;For beauty flees and soon is gone.Who then would trust a gift so frail?Nay, use its joys, while still thou mayst;For silent time will soon destroy thee,775And hours to baser hours steal on.Why seek the desert wilds? Thy formIs no more safe in pathless ways.If in the forest's depths thou hide,When Titan brings the noonday heat,The saucy Naïds will surround thee,780Who are wont in their clear springs to snareThe lovely youth; and 'gainst thy sleepThe wanton goddesses of groves,The Dryads, who the roving PansDrive in pursuit, will mischief plot.Or else that glowing star, whose birth785The old Arcadians beheld,Will see thee from the spangled sky,And straight forget to drive her car.Of late she blushed a fiery red,And yet no staining cloud obscuredHer shining disk. But we, in fearFor her troubled face, clashed cymbals loud,790Deeming her harried by the charmsOf Thessaly. But for thee aloneWas all her toil; thou wast the causeOf her long delay; for, seeing thee,The night's fair goddess checked her course.If only winter's blasts would beat795Less fiercely on that face of thine;If less it felt the sun's hot rays,More bright than Parian marble's gleamWould it appear. How beautifulThe manly sternness in thy face,Thy brow's dark frowning majesty!Compare with Phoebus' that fair neck.800His hair o'er his shoulders flowing free,Unbound by fillet, ornamentsAnd shelters him. A shaggy browBecomes thee best; thee, shorter locks,In tossing disarray. 'Tis thineThe rough and warlike gods to meet805In strife, and by thy mighty strengthTo overcome them. Even now,The muscles of a HerculesThy youthful arms can match. Thy breastIs broader than the breast of Mars.If on a horny-footed steedThou'rt pleased to mount, not Castor's self810More easily could hold in checkThe Spartan Cyllarus.Take thong in hand; with all thy strengthDischarge the javelin: not so far,Though they be trained to hurl the dart,Will Cretans send the slender reed.815Or if it please thee into air,In Parthian style, to shoot thy darts,None will descend without its bird,Fixed deep within the throbbing breast;From out the very clouds thy preyThou wilt regain.By few has beauty been possessed(The voice of history proclaims)820Without some loss or suffering.But thee, unharmed, may God pass byMore merciful, and may thy form,Now famous for its beauty, showAt last the marks of ugly age.What crime would woman's fury leave undared?She plans against this harmless youth some fraud.825Behold her scheme! For by her tumbled hair,All torn, she seeks sure credence for her tale.She wets her cheeks with tears; and every artThat woman's shrewdness knows, does she employ.[A man is seen approaching, who proves to beTheseus.]But who is that who comes with grace of kingsDisplayed upon his face, his lofty head830Held high in kingly pride? In countenance,How like the young Pirithoüs he seems,Were not his cheeks too deadly pale and wan,And if his hair fell not in locks unkempt.Behold, 'tis Theseus' self returned to earth.FOOTNOTES:[20]Reading,luxus.[21]Reading,dixit.ACT IIITheseus:At last have I escaped from endless night,835That shadowy realm which close confines the dead.And now my eyes can scarce endure the lightWhich I have long desired. Eleusin nowHas four times reaped her ripened grain, the giftTriptolemus bestowed; thrice and againHas Libra measured equal day and night,Since dubious battling with an unknown fateHas held me in the toils of life and death.840To me, though dead to all things else, one partOf life remained, the consciousness of ill.Alcides was the end. When he came downTo bring the dog by force from Tartarus,He brought me also to the upper world.845But ah, my wearied frame has lost the strengthIt had of old; I walk with faltering steps.Alas! how great a task it was to reachThe world of light from lower Phlegethon,To flee from death and follow Hercules!But why this sound of wailing in my ears?850Let someone tell; for agonies of woeAnd grief and lamentations sad I meetUpon the very threshold of my home—A fitting welcome to a guest from hell.Nurse:The queen is obstinately bent on death,And scorns the strong remonstrance of our tears.855Theseus:Why should she die, her husband safe returned?Nurse:That very cause compels her speedy death.Theseus:Thy words are dark and hide some weighty truth.Speak out and tell what grief weighs down her soul.Nurse:She tells her grief to none. Some secret woe860She hides within her heart, and is resolvedTo take her secret with her to the grave.But speed thee to her; there is need of haste.Theseus:Unbar the close-shut portals of my house.[The doors are opened andTheseusencounters his wife just within.]Theseus[toPhaedra]: My queen, is't thus thou dost receive thy lord,And welcome back thy husband long desired?865Nay, put away the sword from thy right hand,And give me heart again. Reveal to meThe cause that forces thee to flee from life.Phaedra:Alas, great Theseus, by thy kingly power,And by thy children's souls, by thy return,870And by my ashes, suffer me to die.Theseus:What cause compels thy death?Phaedra:The fruit of deathWould perish if I let its cause be known.Theseus:None else shall hear it save myself alone.Phaedra:A chaste wife fears her husband most of all.Theseus:Speak out; I'll hide thy secret in my heart.875Phaedra:The secret thou wouldst have another guard,First guard thyself.Theseus:No chance of death thou'lt find.Phaedra:Death cannot fail the heart that's bent on death.Theseus:Confess what sin must be atoned by death.Phaedra:My life.Theseus:Will not my tears avail with thee?880Phaedra:That death is best which one's own friends lament.Theseus:She still persists in silence. By the lashAnd chains shall her old nurse be forced to tellWhat she will not declare. Put her in chains.Now let the lash lay bare her hidden thoughts.Phaedra:Hold, stay thy hand, for I myself will speak.885Theseus:Why dost thou turn thy grieving face away,And hide the quickly rising shower of tearsBehind thy robe?Phaedra:Thee, thee do I invoke,O father of the gods, and thee, O Sun,Thou shining glory of the heavenly dome,On whom as founder doth our house depend,890I call ye both to witness that I stroveAgainst his prayers, though sorely tried. To threatsOf death my spirit did not yield; but forceO'ercame my body. This the shameful stainUpon my honor which my blood must cleanse.Theseus:Come, tell, who hath defiled our honor so?Phaedra:Whom thou wouldst least expect.895Theseus:But who is he?I wait to hear his name.Phaedra:This sword shall tell,Which in his terror at our loud laments,The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.Theseus:Ah me! What villainy do I behold?What monstrous deed is this? The royal sword,Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race.900But he—where has he gone?Phaedra:These slaves have seenHow, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.Theseus:Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'stIn heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas,Whence came this base infection of our race?905Was he of Grecian birth, or did he springFrom Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream?The type reverts to its ancestral stock,And blood ignoble but repeats its source.This is the madness of that savage race,To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute910At last the long-chaste body to the crowd.Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good lawsWhich milder climes revere! The very beastsShun love incestuous, and keep the lawsOf nature with instinctive chastity.Where is that face, that feigned austerity,915That rough and careless garb that sought to apeThe ancient customs? Where that aspect stern,That sour severity which age assumes?O life, two-faced! How thou dost hide thy thoughts!For fairest faces cover foulest hearts;The chaste demeanor hides inchastity;920The gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin.False men approve the truth; the faint of heartAffect a blustering mood. O thou, of woodsEnamored, savage, rough and virgin pure,Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone?On my couch first and with so fell a crime925Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers?Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heavenThat long ago I slew Antiope;That, when I went below to Stygian caves,I did not leave thy mother for thy lust.Go, get thee far away to unknown lands;And there, though to her utmost bounds removed,930The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes;Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes;Though to the frigid northern realms thou go,And deep within her farthest caverns hide;Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed,935And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threatsOf frosty Boreas in mad pursuit:Thou still shalt meet thy fitting punishment.Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flightThrough all thy hiding-places. Ways remote,Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways,I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle940Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return.And whither spears cannot be hurled at theeI'll hurl my prayers. My father of the seaOnce promised me that thrice I might prevailWith him in prayer, and ratified the boonBy oath upon the inviolable Styx.[ToNeptune.]Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow,945And grant my prayer: let not HippolytusLive to behold another sun's bright rays,But may he go to meet those shades of hellEnraged at my escape. O father, nowI pray that aid which still I deprecate.This last of thy three boons I would not use,950If I were not beset by grievous ills.Amidst the depths of hell and dreadful Dis,Amidst the infernal king's pursuing threats,I did not call on thee. But now I claimThy promise, father. Why delay thine aid?Why are thy waves inactive? Let the winds955That drive the blackening clouds bring darkness on;Snatch stars and sky from sight; pour forth the sea;Arouse thy watery monsters, and let looseOn him from ocean's depths thy swelling waves.[ExitTheseus.]Chorus: Great nature, mother of the gods,And thou, fire-girt Olympus' lord,960Who speedest through the flying skiesThe scattered stars, the wandering waysOf constellations, and the heavensUpon their whirling axes turn'st:Why is thy care so great to keepThe annual highways of the air,965That now the hoary frosts may stripThe woods of leaves, and now the treesMay spread once more their pleasant shade;That now the summer's fervent heatMay ripen Ceres' gift, and soon970Her strength the Autumn may subdue?But why, though thou dost rule so wide,Though in thy hand the ponderous worldsAre poised, and calmly wheel alongTheir appointed ways, why dost thou shunThe affairs of men and have no careFor them? Art not solicitous975That good should prosper, and that sinReceive its just deserts? But no:Blind Fortune rules the affairs of men,Dispensing with unthinking handHer gifts, oft favoring the worst.980And so the violent oppressThe innocent; and fraud holds swayIn highest places. To the handsOf brutish men the rabble mostRejoice to trust their government;The same they honor and they hate,With fickle will. Sad virtue findsHer recompense for righteousnessAll gone away; and poverty,985Relentless, follows innocence;While, deep intrenched in wickedness,The adulterer sits secure, and reigns.O modesty—an empty name!And worth—a glorious cheat!But what would yonder messenger announce,Who comes in haste, with woeful countenance?990ACT IV[EnterMessenger.]Messenger:O slavery, thou hard and bitter lot,Why must I voice these woes unspeakable?Theseus:Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance;For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.Messenger:My tongue can find no words to voice its woe.955Theseus:But speak, what evil fortune still besetsMy shattered house?Messenger:Hippolytus is dead!Theseus:The father knew long since his son had died;But now the adulterer has met his end.Tell me, I pray, the manner of his death.Messenger:When, fleeing forth, he left the city's walls,1000With maddened speed he hurried on his way,And quickly yoked his chargers to his car,And curbed them to his will with close-drawn reins.And then, with much wild speech, and cursing loudHis native land, oft calling on his sire,1005He fiercely shook the reins above his steeds;When suddenly, far out the vast sea roared,And heaved itself to heaven. No wind was thereTo stir the sea, no quarter of the skyBroke in upon its peace; the rising wavesWere by their own peculiar tempest raised.1010No blast so great had ever stirred the straitsOf Sicily, nor had the deep e'er swelledWith such wild rage before the north wind's breath,When high cliffs trembled with the shock of waves,And hoary foam smote high Leucate's top.The sea then rose into a mighty heap,1015And, big with monstrous birth, was landward borne.For no ship's wrecking was this swelling pestIntended; landward was its aim. The floodRolled shoreward heavily, something unknownWithin its laden bosom carrying.What land, new born, will lift its head aloft?1020Is some new island of the CycladesArising? Now the rocky heights are hid,Held sacred to the Epidaurian god,And those high crags well known for Sciron's crime;No longer can be seen that land whose shoresAre washed by double seas. While in amaze1025We look in fear and wonder, suddenlyThe whole sea bellows, and on every sideThe towering cliffs re-echo with the roar;While all their tops the leaping spray bedews.The deep spouts forth and vomits up its wavesIn alternating streams, like some huge whale1030Which roves the ocean, spouting up the floods.Then did that mound of waters strongly heaveAnd break itself, and threw upon the shoreA thing more terrible than all our fears.The sea itself rushed landward, followingThat monstrous thing. I shudder at the thought.What form and bearing had the monster huge!1035A bull it was in form, with dark-green neckUplifted high, its lofty front adornedWith verdant mane. Its ears with shaggy hairWere rough; its horns with changing color flashed,Such as the lord of some fierce herd would have,Both earth and ocean-born. He vomits flames;1040With flames his fierce eyes gleam. His glossy neckGreat couch-like muscles shows, and as he breathes,His spreading nostrils quiver with the blastOf his deep panting. Breast and dewlap hangAll green with clinging moss; and on his sidesRed lichens cling. His hinder parts appear1045In monstrous shape, and like some scaly fishHis vast and shapeless members drag along;As are those monsters of the distant seasWhich swallow ships, and spout[22]them forth again.The country-side was panic stricken; herds1050In frenzied terror scattered through the fields;Nor did the herdsmen think to follow them.The wild beasts in the forest pastures fledIn all directions, and the hunters shookWith deadly fear. Hippolytus aloneWas not afraid, but curbed his frantic steeds1055With close-drawn reins, and with his well-known voiceHe cheered them on. The road to Argos[23]runsPrecipitous along the broken hills,On one side bordered by the roaring sea.Here does that massive monster whet himselfAnd kindle hot his wrath; then, when he feltHis courage strong within his breast, and whenHis power to attempt the strife he had rehearsed,1060He charged Hippolytus with headlong course,The ground scarce touching with his bounding feet;And, fearful, stopped before the trembling steeds.But this thy son, with savage countenance,Stood steadfast, threatening, before the foe.His features changed not, while he thundered loud:1065"This empty terror cannot daunt my soul,For 'twas my father's task to vanquish bulls."But straightway, disobedient to the reins,The horses hurried off the car. And now,The highway leaving, maddened by their fear,They plunged along where'er their terror led,1070And took their way among the rocky fields.But he, their driver, as some captain strongHolds straight his bark upon the boisterous sea,Lest she oppose her side against the waves,And by his art escapes the yawning floods;Not otherwise he guides the whirling car.1075For now with tight-drawn reins he curbs his steeds,And now upon their backs he plies the lash.But doggedly that monster kept along,Now running by their side, now leaping straightUpon them as they came, from every handGreat fear inspiring. Soon all further flight1080Was checked; for that dread, hornéd, ocean beastWith lowering front charged full against their course.Then, truly, did the horses, wild with fear,Break loose from all control; and from the yokeThey madly struggled to withdraw their necks,Their master hurling to their stamping feet.Headlong among the lossened reins he fell,1085His form all tangled in their clinging strands.The more he struggled to release himselfThe tighter those relentless fetters bound.The steeds perceived what they had done, and now,With empty car, and no one mastering them,They ran where terror bade. Just so, of old,Not recognizing their accustomed load,1090And hot with anger that the car of dayHad been entrusted to a spurious sun,The steeds of Phoebus hurled young PhaëthonFar through the airs of heaven in wandering course.Now far and wide he stains the fields with blood,His head rebounding from the smitten rocks.The bramble thickets pluck away his hair,1095And that fair face is bruised upon the stones.His fatal beauty which had been his bane,Is ruined now by many a wound. His limbsAre dragged along upon the flying wheels.At last, his bleeding trunk upon a charredAnd pointed stake is caught, pierced through the groin;And for a little, by its master held,1100The car stood still. The horses by that woundWere held awhile, but soon they break delay—And break their master too. While on they rush,The whipping branches cut his dying form,The rough and thorny brambles tear his flesh,And every bush retains its part of him.Now bands of servants scour those woeful fields,1105Those places where Hippolytus was dragged,And where his bloody trail directs the way;And sorrowing dogs trace out their master's limbs.But not as yet has all this careful toilOf grieving friends sufficed to gather all.1110And has it come to this, that glorious form?But now the partner of his father's realm,And his acknowledged heir, illustrious youth,Who shone refulgent like the stars—beholdHis scattered fragments for the funeral pileThey gather up and heap them on the bier!Theseus:O mother Nature, all too potent thou!How firmly dost thou hold me by the ties1115Of blood! How thou dost force me to obeyThy will! I wished to slay my guilty son,While yet he lived; but now I mourn his loss.Messenger:One may not rightly mourn what he has willed.[24]Theseus:This is indeed the crowning woe, I think,When chance fulfils the prayers we should not make.1120Messenger:If still you hate your son, why weep for him?Theseus:Because I slew, not lost my son, I weep.Chorus:How on the wheel of circumstanceWe mortals whirl! 'Gainst humble folkDoes fate more gently rage, and GodMore lightly smites the lightly blest.1125A life in dim retirement spentInsures a peaceful soul; and heWho in a lowly cottage dwellsMay live to tranquil age at last.The mountain tops that pierce the skies,Feel all the stormy winds that blow,Fierce Eurus, Notus, and the threatsOf Boreas, and Corus too,1130Storm bringer.The vale low lying seldom feelsThe thunder's stroke; but Caucasus,The huge, and the lofty Phrygian grovesOf mother Cybele have feltThe bolts of Jove the Thunderer.1135For Jupiter in jealousyAttacks the heights too near his skies;But never is the humble roofUptorn by jealous heaven's assaults.Round mighty kings and homes of kings1140He thunders.The passing hour on doubtful wingsFlits ever; nor may any claimSwift Fortune's pledge. Behold our king,Who sees at last the glowing starsAnd light of day, the gloom of hellBehind him left, a sad return1145Laments; for this his welcome homeHe finds more sorrowful by farThan dismal, dark Avernus' self.O Pallas, by the Athenian raceIn reverence held, that once againThy Theseus sees the light of day,1150And has escaped the pools of Styx,Thou owest naught to greedy Dis;For still the number of the shadesWithin the infernal tyrant's powerRemains the same.But why the sounds of wailing that we hear?And what would Phaedra with her naked sword?1155FOOTNOTES:[22]Reading,reddit.[23]Reading,Argos.[24]Reading,haud quisquam honeste flere, quod voluit, potest.ACT V[EnterPhaedrawith a drawn sword in her hand.]Theseus[toPhaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief?What means that sword? or why these loud laments?Why weepest thou above the hated corpse?Phaedra:Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep,Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes1160That breed within the caverns of the sea,Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals,And ocean hides within his wandering waves.O Theseus, always ill of omen thou!Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned,Since son and father by their death have paid1165For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own houseArt the destroyer; ever baneful thou,Whether in love or hatred of thy wives.[Turning to the mangled corpse.]Hippolytus, is this thy face I see?Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild,What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee?1170What Cretan bull-man, filling all the caveOf Daedalus with his vast bellowings,Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns?Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright,Thy eyes, my stars? Dost thou all lifeless lie?Come back a little while and hear my words.1175'Tis nothing base I speak. With my own handI'll make thee full atonement, and will plungeThe avenging sword within my sinful breast,And so be free from life and guilt at once.Thee will I follow through Tartarean pools.Across the Styx, through streams of liquid fire.1180Let me appease the spirit of the dead.Accept the spoils I offer, take this lockTorn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not rightTo join our souls in life; but surely nowWe may by death unite our fates.[To herself.]Now die,If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord;But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake.1185Is't meet that I should live and seek againMy husband's couch, by such foul incest stained?This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure,Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified.O death, thou only cure for evil love,For injured chastity the last resort:I fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms.1190Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear,Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn.The crime, which I myself within my heart,With passion mad, conceived, I basely chargedTo him. An empty vengeance hast thou wroughtUpon thy son; for he in chastity,1195Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstainedAnd innocent.[ToHippolytus.]Regain thine honor now;Behold my impious breast awaits the strokeOf justice, and my blood makes sacrificeUnto the spirit of a guiltless man.[ToTheseus.]How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son,Learn now from me—and seek the Acheron.1200[She falls upon her sword and dies.]Theseus:Ye jaws of wan Avernus, and ye cavesOf Taenara, ye floods of Lethe's stream,A soothing balm to hearts o'ercome with grief,Ye sluggish pools: take ye my impious soulAnd plunge me deep in your eternal woes.Now come, ye savage monsters of the deep,Whatever Proteus hides within his caves,1205And drown me in your pools, me who rejoiceIn crime so hideous. O father, thouWho ever dost too readily assentUnto my wrathful prayers, I merit notAn easy death, who on my son have broughtA death so strange, and scattered through the fieldsHis mangled limbs; who, while, as austere judge,I sought to punish evil falsely charged,1210Have fallen myself into the pit of crime.For heaven, hell, and seas have by my sinsBeen peopled; now no further lot remains;Three kingdoms know me now. Was it for thisThat I returned? Was heaven's light restoredTo me that I might see two funerals,A double death? That I, bereft of wife1215And son, should with one torch upon the pyreConsume them both? Thou giver of the lightWhich has so baleful proved, O, Hercules,Take back thy boon, and give me up againTo Dis; restore me to the curséd shadesWhom I escaped. Oh, impious, in vainI call upon that death I left behind.1220Thou bloody man, well skilled in deadly arts,Who hast contrived unwonted ways of deathAnd terrible, now deal unto thyselfThe fitting punishment. Let some great pineBe bent to earth and hurl thee high in air;Or let me headlong leap from Sciron's cliff.1225More dreadful punishments have I beheld,Which Phlegethon upon the guilty soulsEncircled by his fiery stream inflicts.What suffering awaits me, and what place,Full well I know. Make room, ye guilty shades;On me, me only, let that rock be placed,The everlasting toil of Sisyphus,1230And let these wearied hands upbear its weight;Let cooling waters lap and mock my lips;Let that fell vulture fly from Tityos,And let my vitals ever living beFor punishment. And thou, Ixion, sire1235Of my Pirithoüs, take rest awhile,And let the wheel that never stops its flightBear these my limbs upon its whirling rim.Now yawn, O earth, and chaos dire, receive,I pray, receive me to your depths; for thus'Tis fitting that I journey to the shades.I go to meet my son. And fear thou not,1240Thou king of dead men's souls; I come in peaceTo that eternal home, whence ne'er againShall I come forth.My prayers move not the gods.But if some impious plea I made to them,How ready would they be to grant my prayer!Chorus:Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn.Now pay the funeral honors due thy son,1245And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.Theseus:Then hither bring the pitiful remainsOf that dear corpse, and heap together hereThat shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs.Is this Hippolytus? I realizeMy depth of crime, for I have murdered thee.1250And lest but once and I alone should sin,A parent, bent to do an impious thing,My father did I summon to my aid.Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy.O childlessness, a bitter loss art thouFor broken age! But come, embrace his limbs,Whatever of thy hapless son is left,And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast.1255Arrange in order those dismembered parts,And to their proper place restore them. HereHis brave right hand should be. Place here the left,Well trained to curb his horses with the reins.The marks of his left side I recognize;1260And yet how large a part is lacking stillUnto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands,To do the last sad offices of grief;Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears,While I count o'er the members of my son,And lay his body out for burial.1265What is this shapeless piece, on all sides tornWith many a wound? I know not what it is,Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down.Not in its own, but in an empty place.That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed,That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes,1270Has that bright beauty come to this? O fate,How bitter! Deadly favor of the gods!And is it thus my son comes back to meIn answer to my prayers? These final ritesThy father pays, receive, O thou my son,Who often to thy funeral must be borne.And now let fires consume these dear remains.Throw open wide my palace, dark with death,1275And let all Athens ring with loud laments.Do some of you prepare the royal pyre,And others seek yet farther in the fieldsHis scattered parts.[Pointing toPhaedra'scorpse.]Let earth on her be spread,And may it heavy rest upon her head.1280HERCULES OETAEUSHERCULES OETAEUSDRAMATIS PERSONAEHerculesSon of Jupiter and Alcmena.HyllusSon of Hercules and Deianira.AlcmenaDaughter of Electryon, king of Mycenae.DeianiraDaughter of Oeneus, king of Aetolia, and wife of Hercules.IoleDaughter of Eurytus, king of Oechalia.NurseOf Deianira.PhiloctetesA prince of Thessaly, son of Poeas, and the faithful friend of Hercules.LichasThe messenger (persona muta) of Deianira to Hercules.ChorusOf Aetolian women, faithful to Deianira.BandOf Oechalian maidens, suffering captivity in company with Iole.The sceneis laid, first in Euboea, and later at the home of Hercules in Trachin.The long, heroic life of Hercules has neared its end. His twelve great tasks, assigned him by Eurystheus through Juno's hatred, have been done. His latest victory was over Eurytus, king of Oechalia. Him he slew and overthrew his house, because the monarch would not give him Iole to wife.And now the hero, having overcome the world, and Pluto's realm beneath the earth, aspires to heaven. He sacrifices to Cenaean Jove, and prays at last to be received into his proper home.ACT I[On the Cenaean promontory of the island of Euboea.]

Nurse[in soliloquy, whilePhaedraseems to have fallen in a fainting fit]: Now is her fault discovered. Soul of mine,

Why dost thou stand in dumb amaze? This crime

We must throw back upon the man himself,720

And charge him with a guilty love, ourselves.

Sin must be hid by sin. The safest way

Is to go straight forward on the course you fear.

Who is to know, since no one saw the deed,

Whether we dared, ourselves, or suffered ill?

[Raising her voice in a loud cry.]

Help! Help! ye dames of Athens! Faithful band725

Of slaves, bring aid! Behold Hippolytus,

With vile adultery, attacks the queen!

He has her in his power! He threatens death!

At point of sword he storms her chastity!

There, he has gone in haste, and left behind

His sword in trembling, panic-stricken flight.

This proof of guilt we'll keep. But first restore730

The stricken queen to life. Let all remain

Just as they are, her locks disheveled, torn,

To show how great a wrong she has endured.

Back to the city bear her now. Revive,

My mistress. Why dost seek to harm thyself

And shun thy comrades' eyes. For be thou sure

Not circumstance but will can make impure.735

[Exeunt.]

Chorus:He fled away like the storm-blast wild,More swift than cloud-compelling winds;And swifter than the comet's torch,When, driven before the wind, it speedsWith long-drawn, trailing fires.740Let fame, that boasts of her olden times,Compare with thine all ancient charms:Beyond compare does thy beauty shine,Clear and bright as the full-orbed moon,When, with waxing hours in splendor joined,745Night long she speeds her shining car,And her ruddy face so brightly gleams,That the fires of the lesser stars are dimmed.He is fair as the messenger of night,When he leads the evening shadows in,Himself new bathed in the ocean's foam;750Or when, the darkness put to flight,He heralds the dawn—bright Lucifer.And thou of the thyrsus, Indian Bacchus,With the flowing locks of endless youth,With thine ivy-clad spear the tigers driving,755And thy turban set on thy hornéd head:Not thus will thy glorious locks outshineThe unadorned hair of Hippolytus.And admire not thy beauty over much,For fame has spread the story far,How Phaedra's sister preferred to thee,760O Bromius, a mortal man.Ah beauty, a doubtful boon art thou,The gift of a fleeting hour! How swiftOn flying feet thou glidest away!So flowery meadows of the springThe summer's burning heat devours,765When midday's raging sun rides high,And night's brief round is hurried through.As the lilies languish on their stems,So pleasing tresses fail the head;And swiftly is the radiance dimmed770Which gleams from the tender cheeks of youth!Each day hath its spoil from the lovely form;For beauty flees and soon is gone.Who then would trust a gift so frail?Nay, use its joys, while still thou mayst;For silent time will soon destroy thee,775And hours to baser hours steal on.Why seek the desert wilds? Thy formIs no more safe in pathless ways.If in the forest's depths thou hide,When Titan brings the noonday heat,The saucy Naïds will surround thee,780Who are wont in their clear springs to snareThe lovely youth; and 'gainst thy sleepThe wanton goddesses of groves,The Dryads, who the roving PansDrive in pursuit, will mischief plot.Or else that glowing star, whose birth785The old Arcadians beheld,Will see thee from the spangled sky,And straight forget to drive her car.Of late she blushed a fiery red,And yet no staining cloud obscuredHer shining disk. But we, in fearFor her troubled face, clashed cymbals loud,790Deeming her harried by the charmsOf Thessaly. But for thee aloneWas all her toil; thou wast the causeOf her long delay; for, seeing thee,The night's fair goddess checked her course.If only winter's blasts would beat795Less fiercely on that face of thine;If less it felt the sun's hot rays,More bright than Parian marble's gleamWould it appear. How beautifulThe manly sternness in thy face,Thy brow's dark frowning majesty!Compare with Phoebus' that fair neck.800His hair o'er his shoulders flowing free,Unbound by fillet, ornamentsAnd shelters him. A shaggy browBecomes thee best; thee, shorter locks,In tossing disarray. 'Tis thineThe rough and warlike gods to meet805In strife, and by thy mighty strengthTo overcome them. Even now,The muscles of a HerculesThy youthful arms can match. Thy breastIs broader than the breast of Mars.If on a horny-footed steedThou'rt pleased to mount, not Castor's self810More easily could hold in checkThe Spartan Cyllarus.Take thong in hand; with all thy strengthDischarge the javelin: not so far,Though they be trained to hurl the dart,Will Cretans send the slender reed.815Or if it please thee into air,In Parthian style, to shoot thy darts,None will descend without its bird,Fixed deep within the throbbing breast;From out the very clouds thy preyThou wilt regain.By few has beauty been possessed(The voice of history proclaims)820Without some loss or suffering.But thee, unharmed, may God pass byMore merciful, and may thy form,Now famous for its beauty, showAt last the marks of ugly age.What crime would woman's fury leave undared?She plans against this harmless youth some fraud.825Behold her scheme! For by her tumbled hair,All torn, she seeks sure credence for her tale.She wets her cheeks with tears; and every artThat woman's shrewdness knows, does she employ.[A man is seen approaching, who proves to beTheseus.]But who is that who comes with grace of kingsDisplayed upon his face, his lofty head830Held high in kingly pride? In countenance,How like the young Pirithoüs he seems,Were not his cheeks too deadly pale and wan,And if his hair fell not in locks unkempt.Behold, 'tis Theseus' self returned to earth.

Chorus:He fled away like the storm-blast wild,

More swift than cloud-compelling winds;

And swifter than the comet's torch,

When, driven before the wind, it speeds

With long-drawn, trailing fires.740

Let fame, that boasts of her olden times,

Compare with thine all ancient charms:

Beyond compare does thy beauty shine,

Clear and bright as the full-orbed moon,

When, with waxing hours in splendor joined,745

Night long she speeds her shining car,

And her ruddy face so brightly gleams,

That the fires of the lesser stars are dimmed.

He is fair as the messenger of night,

When he leads the evening shadows in,

Himself new bathed in the ocean's foam;750

Or when, the darkness put to flight,

He heralds the dawn—bright Lucifer.

And thou of the thyrsus, Indian Bacchus,

With the flowing locks of endless youth,

With thine ivy-clad spear the tigers driving,755

And thy turban set on thy hornéd head:

Not thus will thy glorious locks outshine

The unadorned hair of Hippolytus.

And admire not thy beauty over much,

For fame has spread the story far,

How Phaedra's sister preferred to thee,760

O Bromius, a mortal man.

Ah beauty, a doubtful boon art thou,

The gift of a fleeting hour! How swift

On flying feet thou glidest away!

So flowery meadows of the spring

The summer's burning heat devours,765

When midday's raging sun rides high,

And night's brief round is hurried through.

As the lilies languish on their stems,

So pleasing tresses fail the head;

And swiftly is the radiance dimmed770

Which gleams from the tender cheeks of youth!

Each day hath its spoil from the lovely form;

For beauty flees and soon is gone.

Who then would trust a gift so frail?

Nay, use its joys, while still thou mayst;

For silent time will soon destroy thee,775

And hours to baser hours steal on.

Why seek the desert wilds? Thy form

Is no more safe in pathless ways.

If in the forest's depths thou hide,

When Titan brings the noonday heat,

The saucy Naïds will surround thee,780

Who are wont in their clear springs to snare

The lovely youth; and 'gainst thy sleep

The wanton goddesses of groves,

The Dryads, who the roving Pans

Drive in pursuit, will mischief plot.

Or else that glowing star, whose birth785

The old Arcadians beheld,

Will see thee from the spangled sky,

And straight forget to drive her car.

Of late she blushed a fiery red,

And yet no staining cloud obscured

Her shining disk. But we, in fear

For her troubled face, clashed cymbals loud,790

Deeming her harried by the charms

Of Thessaly. But for thee alone

Was all her toil; thou wast the cause

Of her long delay; for, seeing thee,

The night's fair goddess checked her course.

If only winter's blasts would beat795

Less fiercely on that face of thine;

If less it felt the sun's hot rays,

More bright than Parian marble's gleam

Would it appear. How beautiful

The manly sternness in thy face,

Thy brow's dark frowning majesty!

Compare with Phoebus' that fair neck.800

His hair o'er his shoulders flowing free,

Unbound by fillet, ornaments

And shelters him. A shaggy brow

Becomes thee best; thee, shorter locks,

In tossing disarray. 'Tis thine

The rough and warlike gods to meet805

In strife, and by thy mighty strength

To overcome them. Even now,

The muscles of a Hercules

Thy youthful arms can match. Thy breast

Is broader than the breast of Mars.

If on a horny-footed steed

Thou'rt pleased to mount, not Castor's self810

More easily could hold in check

The Spartan Cyllarus.

Take thong in hand; with all thy strength

Discharge the javelin: not so far,

Though they be trained to hurl the dart,

Will Cretans send the slender reed.815

Or if it please thee into air,

In Parthian style, to shoot thy darts,

None will descend without its bird,

Fixed deep within the throbbing breast;

From out the very clouds thy prey

Thou wilt regain.

By few has beauty been possessed

(The voice of history proclaims)820

Without some loss or suffering.

But thee, unharmed, may God pass by

More merciful, and may thy form,

Now famous for its beauty, show

At last the marks of ugly age.

What crime would woman's fury leave undared?

She plans against this harmless youth some fraud.825

Behold her scheme! For by her tumbled hair,

All torn, she seeks sure credence for her tale.

She wets her cheeks with tears; and every art

That woman's shrewdness knows, does she employ.

[A man is seen approaching, who proves to beTheseus.]

But who is that who comes with grace of kings

Displayed upon his face, his lofty head830

Held high in kingly pride? In countenance,

How like the young Pirithoüs he seems,

Were not his cheeks too deadly pale and wan,

And if his hair fell not in locks unkempt.

Behold, 'tis Theseus' self returned to earth.

FOOTNOTES:[20]Reading,luxus.[21]Reading,dixit.

[20]Reading,luxus.

[21]Reading,dixit.

Theseus:At last have I escaped from endless night,835That shadowy realm which close confines the dead.And now my eyes can scarce endure the lightWhich I have long desired. Eleusin nowHas four times reaped her ripened grain, the giftTriptolemus bestowed; thrice and againHas Libra measured equal day and night,Since dubious battling with an unknown fateHas held me in the toils of life and death.840To me, though dead to all things else, one partOf life remained, the consciousness of ill.Alcides was the end. When he came downTo bring the dog by force from Tartarus,He brought me also to the upper world.845But ah, my wearied frame has lost the strengthIt had of old; I walk with faltering steps.Alas! how great a task it was to reachThe world of light from lower Phlegethon,To flee from death and follow Hercules!But why this sound of wailing in my ears?850Let someone tell; for agonies of woeAnd grief and lamentations sad I meetUpon the very threshold of my home—A fitting welcome to a guest from hell.Nurse:The queen is obstinately bent on death,And scorns the strong remonstrance of our tears.855Theseus:Why should she die, her husband safe returned?Nurse:That very cause compels her speedy death.Theseus:Thy words are dark and hide some weighty truth.Speak out and tell what grief weighs down her soul.Nurse:She tells her grief to none. Some secret woe860She hides within her heart, and is resolvedTo take her secret with her to the grave.But speed thee to her; there is need of haste.Theseus:Unbar the close-shut portals of my house.

Theseus:At last have I escaped from endless night,835

That shadowy realm which close confines the dead.

And now my eyes can scarce endure the light

Which I have long desired. Eleusin now

Has four times reaped her ripened grain, the gift

Triptolemus bestowed; thrice and again

Has Libra measured equal day and night,

Since dubious battling with an unknown fate

Has held me in the toils of life and death.840

To me, though dead to all things else, one part

Of life remained, the consciousness of ill.

Alcides was the end. When he came down

To bring the dog by force from Tartarus,

He brought me also to the upper world.845

But ah, my wearied frame has lost the strength

It had of old; I walk with faltering steps.

Alas! how great a task it was to reach

The world of light from lower Phlegethon,

To flee from death and follow Hercules!

But why this sound of wailing in my ears?850

Let someone tell; for agonies of woe

And grief and lamentations sad I meet

Upon the very threshold of my home—

A fitting welcome to a guest from hell.

Nurse:The queen is obstinately bent on death,And scorns the strong remonstrance of our tears.855

Nurse:The queen is obstinately bent on death,

And scorns the strong remonstrance of our tears.855

Theseus:Why should she die, her husband safe returned?

Nurse:That very cause compels her speedy death.

Theseus:Thy words are dark and hide some weighty truth.Speak out and tell what grief weighs down her soul.

Theseus:Thy words are dark and hide some weighty truth.

Speak out and tell what grief weighs down her soul.

Nurse:She tells her grief to none. Some secret woe860She hides within her heart, and is resolvedTo take her secret with her to the grave.But speed thee to her; there is need of haste.

Nurse:She tells her grief to none. Some secret woe860

She hides within her heart, and is resolved

To take her secret with her to the grave.

But speed thee to her; there is need of haste.

Theseus:Unbar the close-shut portals of my house.

[The doors are opened andTheseusencounters his wife just within.]

Theseus[toPhaedra]: My queen, is't thus thou dost receive thy lord,And welcome back thy husband long desired?865Nay, put away the sword from thy right hand,And give me heart again. Reveal to meThe cause that forces thee to flee from life.Phaedra:Alas, great Theseus, by thy kingly power,And by thy children's souls, by thy return,870And by my ashes, suffer me to die.Theseus:What cause compels thy death?Phaedra:The fruit of deathWould perish if I let its cause be known.Theseus:None else shall hear it save myself alone.Phaedra:A chaste wife fears her husband most of all.Theseus:Speak out; I'll hide thy secret in my heart.875Phaedra:The secret thou wouldst have another guard,First guard thyself.Theseus:No chance of death thou'lt find.Phaedra:Death cannot fail the heart that's bent on death.Theseus:Confess what sin must be atoned by death.Phaedra:My life.Theseus:Will not my tears avail with thee?880Phaedra:That death is best which one's own friends lament.Theseus:She still persists in silence. By the lashAnd chains shall her old nurse be forced to tellWhat she will not declare. Put her in chains.Now let the lash lay bare her hidden thoughts.Phaedra:Hold, stay thy hand, for I myself will speak.885Theseus:Why dost thou turn thy grieving face away,And hide the quickly rising shower of tearsBehind thy robe?Phaedra:Thee, thee do I invoke,O father of the gods, and thee, O Sun,Thou shining glory of the heavenly dome,On whom as founder doth our house depend,890I call ye both to witness that I stroveAgainst his prayers, though sorely tried. To threatsOf death my spirit did not yield; but forceO'ercame my body. This the shameful stainUpon my honor which my blood must cleanse.Theseus:Come, tell, who hath defiled our honor so?Phaedra:Whom thou wouldst least expect.895Theseus:But who is he?I wait to hear his name.Phaedra:This sword shall tell,Which in his terror at our loud laments,The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.Theseus:Ah me! What villainy do I behold?What monstrous deed is this? The royal sword,Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race.900But he—where has he gone?Phaedra:These slaves have seenHow, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.Theseus:Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'stIn heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas,Whence came this base infection of our race?905Was he of Grecian birth, or did he springFrom Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream?The type reverts to its ancestral stock,And blood ignoble but repeats its source.This is the madness of that savage race,To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute910At last the long-chaste body to the crowd.Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good lawsWhich milder climes revere! The very beastsShun love incestuous, and keep the lawsOf nature with instinctive chastity.Where is that face, that feigned austerity,915That rough and careless garb that sought to apeThe ancient customs? Where that aspect stern,That sour severity which age assumes?O life, two-faced! How thou dost hide thy thoughts!For fairest faces cover foulest hearts;The chaste demeanor hides inchastity;920The gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin.False men approve the truth; the faint of heartAffect a blustering mood. O thou, of woodsEnamored, savage, rough and virgin pure,Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone?On my couch first and with so fell a crime925Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers?Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heavenThat long ago I slew Antiope;That, when I went below to Stygian caves,I did not leave thy mother for thy lust.Go, get thee far away to unknown lands;And there, though to her utmost bounds removed,930The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes;Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes;Though to the frigid northern realms thou go,And deep within her farthest caverns hide;Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed,935And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threatsOf frosty Boreas in mad pursuit:Thou still shalt meet thy fitting punishment.Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flightThrough all thy hiding-places. Ways remote,Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways,I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle940Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return.And whither spears cannot be hurled at theeI'll hurl my prayers. My father of the seaOnce promised me that thrice I might prevailWith him in prayer, and ratified the boonBy oath upon the inviolable Styx.[ToNeptune.]Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow,945And grant my prayer: let not HippolytusLive to behold another sun's bright rays,But may he go to meet those shades of hellEnraged at my escape. O father, nowI pray that aid which still I deprecate.This last of thy three boons I would not use,950If I were not beset by grievous ills.Amidst the depths of hell and dreadful Dis,Amidst the infernal king's pursuing threats,I did not call on thee. But now I claimThy promise, father. Why delay thine aid?Why are thy waves inactive? Let the winds955That drive the blackening clouds bring darkness on;Snatch stars and sky from sight; pour forth the sea;Arouse thy watery monsters, and let looseOn him from ocean's depths thy swelling waves.

Theseus[toPhaedra]: My queen, is't thus thou dost receive thy lord,

And welcome back thy husband long desired?865

Nay, put away the sword from thy right hand,

And give me heart again. Reveal to me

The cause that forces thee to flee from life.

Phaedra:Alas, great Theseus, by thy kingly power,And by thy children's souls, by thy return,870And by my ashes, suffer me to die.

Phaedra:Alas, great Theseus, by thy kingly power,

And by thy children's souls, by thy return,870

And by my ashes, suffer me to die.

Theseus:What cause compels thy death?

Phaedra:The fruit of deathWould perish if I let its cause be known.

Phaedra:The fruit of death

Would perish if I let its cause be known.

Theseus:None else shall hear it save myself alone.

Phaedra:A chaste wife fears her husband most of all.

Theseus:Speak out; I'll hide thy secret in my heart.875

Phaedra:The secret thou wouldst have another guard,First guard thyself.

Phaedra:The secret thou wouldst have another guard,

First guard thyself.

Theseus:No chance of death thou'lt find.

Phaedra:Death cannot fail the heart that's bent on death.

Theseus:Confess what sin must be atoned by death.

Phaedra:My life.

Theseus:Will not my tears avail with thee?880

Phaedra:That death is best which one's own friends lament.

Theseus:She still persists in silence. By the lashAnd chains shall her old nurse be forced to tellWhat she will not declare. Put her in chains.Now let the lash lay bare her hidden thoughts.

Theseus:She still persists in silence. By the lash

And chains shall her old nurse be forced to tell

What she will not declare. Put her in chains.

Now let the lash lay bare her hidden thoughts.

Phaedra:Hold, stay thy hand, for I myself will speak.885

Theseus:Why dost thou turn thy grieving face away,And hide the quickly rising shower of tearsBehind thy robe?

Theseus:Why dost thou turn thy grieving face away,

And hide the quickly rising shower of tears

Behind thy robe?

Phaedra:Thee, thee do I invoke,O father of the gods, and thee, O Sun,Thou shining glory of the heavenly dome,On whom as founder doth our house depend,890I call ye both to witness that I stroveAgainst his prayers, though sorely tried. To threatsOf death my spirit did not yield; but forceO'ercame my body. This the shameful stainUpon my honor which my blood must cleanse.

Phaedra:Thee, thee do I invoke,

O father of the gods, and thee, O Sun,

Thou shining glory of the heavenly dome,

On whom as founder doth our house depend,890

I call ye both to witness that I strove

Against his prayers, though sorely tried. To threats

Of death my spirit did not yield; but force

O'ercame my body. This the shameful stain

Upon my honor which my blood must cleanse.

Theseus:Come, tell, who hath defiled our honor so?

Phaedra:Whom thou wouldst least expect.895

Theseus:But who is he?I wait to hear his name.

Theseus:But who is he?

I wait to hear his name.

Phaedra:This sword shall tell,Which in his terror at our loud laments,The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.

Phaedra:This sword shall tell,

Which in his terror at our loud laments,

The adulterer left, fearing the citizens.

Theseus:Ah me! What villainy do I behold?What monstrous deed is this? The royal sword,Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race.900But he—where has he gone?

Theseus:Ah me! What villainy do I behold?

What monstrous deed is this? The royal sword,

Its ivory hilt with tiny signs engraved,

Shines out, the glory of the Athenian race.900

But he—where has he gone?

Phaedra:These slaves have seenHow, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.

Phaedra:These slaves have seen

How, borne on speeding feet, he fled away.

Theseus:Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'stIn heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas,Whence came this base infection of our race?905Was he of Grecian birth, or did he springFrom Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream?The type reverts to its ancestral stock,And blood ignoble but repeats its source.This is the madness of that savage race,To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute910At last the long-chaste body to the crowd.Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good lawsWhich milder climes revere! The very beastsShun love incestuous, and keep the lawsOf nature with instinctive chastity.Where is that face, that feigned austerity,915That rough and careless garb that sought to apeThe ancient customs? Where that aspect stern,That sour severity which age assumes?O life, two-faced! How thou dost hide thy thoughts!For fairest faces cover foulest hearts;The chaste demeanor hides inchastity;920The gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin.False men approve the truth; the faint of heartAffect a blustering mood. O thou, of woodsEnamored, savage, rough and virgin pure,Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone?On my couch first and with so fell a crime925Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers?Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heavenThat long ago I slew Antiope;That, when I went below to Stygian caves,I did not leave thy mother for thy lust.Go, get thee far away to unknown lands;And there, though to her utmost bounds removed,930The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes;Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes;Though to the frigid northern realms thou go,And deep within her farthest caverns hide;Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed,935And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threatsOf frosty Boreas in mad pursuit:Thou still shalt meet thy fitting punishment.Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flightThrough all thy hiding-places. Ways remote,Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways,I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle940Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return.And whither spears cannot be hurled at theeI'll hurl my prayers. My father of the seaOnce promised me that thrice I might prevailWith him in prayer, and ratified the boonBy oath upon the inviolable Styx.[ToNeptune.]Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow,945And grant my prayer: let not HippolytusLive to behold another sun's bright rays,But may he go to meet those shades of hellEnraged at my escape. O father, nowI pray that aid which still I deprecate.This last of thy three boons I would not use,950If I were not beset by grievous ills.Amidst the depths of hell and dreadful Dis,Amidst the infernal king's pursuing threats,I did not call on thee. But now I claimThy promise, father. Why delay thine aid?Why are thy waves inactive? Let the winds955That drive the blackening clouds bring darkness on;Snatch stars and sky from sight; pour forth the sea;Arouse thy watery monsters, and let looseOn him from ocean's depths thy swelling waves.

Theseus:Oh, holy piety! O thou who reign'st

In heaven, and thou who rulest in the seas,

Whence came this base infection of our race?905

Was he of Grecian birth, or did he spring

From Scythian Taurus or some Colchian stream?

The type reverts to its ancestral stock,

And blood ignoble but repeats its source.

This is the madness of that savage race,

To scorn all lawful love, and prostitute910

At last the long-chaste body to the crowd.

Oh, loathsome race, restrained by no good laws

Which milder climes revere! The very beasts

Shun love incestuous, and keep the laws

Of nature with instinctive chastity.

Where is that face, that feigned austerity,915

That rough and careless garb that sought to ape

The ancient customs? Where that aspect stern,

That sour severity which age assumes?

O life, two-faced! How thou dost hide thy thoughts!

For fairest faces cover foulest hearts;

The chaste demeanor hides inchastity;920

The gentle, boldness; seeming goodness, sin.

False men approve the truth; the faint of heart

Affect a blustering mood. O thou, of woods

Enamored, savage, rough and virgin pure,

Didst thou reserve thyself for me alone?

On my couch first and with so fell a crime925

Wast thou inclined to try thy manly powers?

Now, now I thank the kindly gods of heaven

That long ago I slew Antiope;

That, when I went below to Stygian caves,

I did not leave thy mother for thy lust.

Go, get thee far away to unknown lands;

And there, though to her utmost bounds removed,930

The earth should hem thee off by ocean's wastes;

Though thou shouldst dwell at the Antipodes;

Though to the frigid northern realms thou go,

And deep within her farthest caverns hide;

Or, though beyond the reach of winter placed,935

And drifting snows, thou leave the boisterous threats

Of frosty Boreas in mad pursuit:

Thou still shalt meet thy fitting punishment.

Persistent shall I chase thee in thy flight

Through all thy hiding-places. Ways remote,

Hemmed in, secluded, hard and trackless ways,

I'll traverse in pursuit. No obstacle940

Shall block my way. Thou know'st whence I return.

And whither spears cannot be hurled at thee

I'll hurl my prayers. My father of the sea

Once promised me that thrice I might prevail

With him in prayer, and ratified the boon

By oath upon the inviolable Styx.

[ToNeptune.]

Thou ruler of the sea, the boon bestow,945

And grant my prayer: let not Hippolytus

Live to behold another sun's bright rays,

But may he go to meet those shades of hell

Enraged at my escape. O father, now

I pray that aid which still I deprecate.

This last of thy three boons I would not use,950

If I were not beset by grievous ills.

Amidst the depths of hell and dreadful Dis,

Amidst the infernal king's pursuing threats,

I did not call on thee. But now I claim

Thy promise, father. Why delay thine aid?

Why are thy waves inactive? Let the winds955

That drive the blackening clouds bring darkness on;

Snatch stars and sky from sight; pour forth the sea;

Arouse thy watery monsters, and let loose

On him from ocean's depths thy swelling waves.

[ExitTheseus.]

Chorus: Great nature, mother of the gods,And thou, fire-girt Olympus' lord,960Who speedest through the flying skiesThe scattered stars, the wandering waysOf constellations, and the heavensUpon their whirling axes turn'st:Why is thy care so great to keepThe annual highways of the air,965That now the hoary frosts may stripThe woods of leaves, and now the treesMay spread once more their pleasant shade;That now the summer's fervent heatMay ripen Ceres' gift, and soon970Her strength the Autumn may subdue?But why, though thou dost rule so wide,Though in thy hand the ponderous worldsAre poised, and calmly wheel alongTheir appointed ways, why dost thou shunThe affairs of men and have no careFor them? Art not solicitous975That good should prosper, and that sinReceive its just deserts? But no:Blind Fortune rules the affairs of men,Dispensing with unthinking handHer gifts, oft favoring the worst.980And so the violent oppressThe innocent; and fraud holds swayIn highest places. To the handsOf brutish men the rabble mostRejoice to trust their government;The same they honor and they hate,With fickle will. Sad virtue findsHer recompense for righteousnessAll gone away; and poverty,985Relentless, follows innocence;While, deep intrenched in wickedness,The adulterer sits secure, and reigns.O modesty—an empty name!And worth—a glorious cheat!But what would yonder messenger announce,Who comes in haste, with woeful countenance?990

Chorus: Great nature, mother of the gods,

And thou, fire-girt Olympus' lord,960

Who speedest through the flying skies

The scattered stars, the wandering ways

Of constellations, and the heavens

Upon their whirling axes turn'st:

Why is thy care so great to keep

The annual highways of the air,965

That now the hoary frosts may strip

The woods of leaves, and now the trees

May spread once more their pleasant shade;

That now the summer's fervent heat

May ripen Ceres' gift, and soon970

Her strength the Autumn may subdue?

But why, though thou dost rule so wide,

Though in thy hand the ponderous worlds

Are poised, and calmly wheel along

Their appointed ways, why dost thou shun

The affairs of men and have no care

For them? Art not solicitous975

That good should prosper, and that sin

Receive its just deserts? But no:

Blind Fortune rules the affairs of men,

Dispensing with unthinking hand

Her gifts, oft favoring the worst.980

And so the violent oppress

The innocent; and fraud holds sway

In highest places. To the hands

Of brutish men the rabble most

Rejoice to trust their government;

The same they honor and they hate,

With fickle will. Sad virtue finds

Her recompense for righteousness

All gone away; and poverty,985

Relentless, follows innocence;

While, deep intrenched in wickedness,

The adulterer sits secure, and reigns.

O modesty—an empty name!

And worth—a glorious cheat!

But what would yonder messenger announce,

Who comes in haste, with woeful countenance?990

[EnterMessenger.]

Messenger:O slavery, thou hard and bitter lot,Why must I voice these woes unspeakable?Theseus:Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance;For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.Messenger:My tongue can find no words to voice its woe.955Theseus:But speak, what evil fortune still besetsMy shattered house?Messenger:Hippolytus is dead!Theseus:The father knew long since his son had died;But now the adulterer has met his end.Tell me, I pray, the manner of his death.Messenger:When, fleeing forth, he left the city's walls,1000With maddened speed he hurried on his way,And quickly yoked his chargers to his car,And curbed them to his will with close-drawn reins.And then, with much wild speech, and cursing loudHis native land, oft calling on his sire,1005He fiercely shook the reins above his steeds;When suddenly, far out the vast sea roared,And heaved itself to heaven. No wind was thereTo stir the sea, no quarter of the skyBroke in upon its peace; the rising wavesWere by their own peculiar tempest raised.1010No blast so great had ever stirred the straitsOf Sicily, nor had the deep e'er swelledWith such wild rage before the north wind's breath,When high cliffs trembled with the shock of waves,And hoary foam smote high Leucate's top.The sea then rose into a mighty heap,1015And, big with monstrous birth, was landward borne.For no ship's wrecking was this swelling pestIntended; landward was its aim. The floodRolled shoreward heavily, something unknownWithin its laden bosom carrying.What land, new born, will lift its head aloft?1020Is some new island of the CycladesArising? Now the rocky heights are hid,Held sacred to the Epidaurian god,And those high crags well known for Sciron's crime;No longer can be seen that land whose shoresAre washed by double seas. While in amaze1025We look in fear and wonder, suddenlyThe whole sea bellows, and on every sideThe towering cliffs re-echo with the roar;While all their tops the leaping spray bedews.The deep spouts forth and vomits up its wavesIn alternating streams, like some huge whale1030Which roves the ocean, spouting up the floods.Then did that mound of waters strongly heaveAnd break itself, and threw upon the shoreA thing more terrible than all our fears.The sea itself rushed landward, followingThat monstrous thing. I shudder at the thought.What form and bearing had the monster huge!1035A bull it was in form, with dark-green neckUplifted high, its lofty front adornedWith verdant mane. Its ears with shaggy hairWere rough; its horns with changing color flashed,Such as the lord of some fierce herd would have,Both earth and ocean-born. He vomits flames;1040With flames his fierce eyes gleam. His glossy neckGreat couch-like muscles shows, and as he breathes,His spreading nostrils quiver with the blastOf his deep panting. Breast and dewlap hangAll green with clinging moss; and on his sidesRed lichens cling. His hinder parts appear1045In monstrous shape, and like some scaly fishHis vast and shapeless members drag along;As are those monsters of the distant seasWhich swallow ships, and spout[22]them forth again.The country-side was panic stricken; herds1050In frenzied terror scattered through the fields;Nor did the herdsmen think to follow them.The wild beasts in the forest pastures fledIn all directions, and the hunters shookWith deadly fear. Hippolytus aloneWas not afraid, but curbed his frantic steeds1055With close-drawn reins, and with his well-known voiceHe cheered them on. The road to Argos[23]runsPrecipitous along the broken hills,On one side bordered by the roaring sea.Here does that massive monster whet himselfAnd kindle hot his wrath; then, when he feltHis courage strong within his breast, and whenHis power to attempt the strife he had rehearsed,1060He charged Hippolytus with headlong course,The ground scarce touching with his bounding feet;And, fearful, stopped before the trembling steeds.But this thy son, with savage countenance,Stood steadfast, threatening, before the foe.His features changed not, while he thundered loud:1065"This empty terror cannot daunt my soul,For 'twas my father's task to vanquish bulls."But straightway, disobedient to the reins,The horses hurried off the car. And now,The highway leaving, maddened by their fear,They plunged along where'er their terror led,1070And took their way among the rocky fields.But he, their driver, as some captain strongHolds straight his bark upon the boisterous sea,Lest she oppose her side against the waves,And by his art escapes the yawning floods;Not otherwise he guides the whirling car.1075For now with tight-drawn reins he curbs his steeds,And now upon their backs he plies the lash.But doggedly that monster kept along,Now running by their side, now leaping straightUpon them as they came, from every handGreat fear inspiring. Soon all further flight1080Was checked; for that dread, hornéd, ocean beastWith lowering front charged full against their course.Then, truly, did the horses, wild with fear,Break loose from all control; and from the yokeThey madly struggled to withdraw their necks,Their master hurling to their stamping feet.Headlong among the lossened reins he fell,1085His form all tangled in their clinging strands.The more he struggled to release himselfThe tighter those relentless fetters bound.The steeds perceived what they had done, and now,With empty car, and no one mastering them,They ran where terror bade. Just so, of old,Not recognizing their accustomed load,1090And hot with anger that the car of dayHad been entrusted to a spurious sun,The steeds of Phoebus hurled young PhaëthonFar through the airs of heaven in wandering course.Now far and wide he stains the fields with blood,His head rebounding from the smitten rocks.The bramble thickets pluck away his hair,1095And that fair face is bruised upon the stones.His fatal beauty which had been his bane,Is ruined now by many a wound. His limbsAre dragged along upon the flying wheels.At last, his bleeding trunk upon a charredAnd pointed stake is caught, pierced through the groin;And for a little, by its master held,1100The car stood still. The horses by that woundWere held awhile, but soon they break delay—And break their master too. While on they rush,The whipping branches cut his dying form,The rough and thorny brambles tear his flesh,And every bush retains its part of him.Now bands of servants scour those woeful fields,1105Those places where Hippolytus was dragged,And where his bloody trail directs the way;And sorrowing dogs trace out their master's limbs.But not as yet has all this careful toilOf grieving friends sufficed to gather all.1110And has it come to this, that glorious form?But now the partner of his father's realm,And his acknowledged heir, illustrious youth,Who shone refulgent like the stars—beholdHis scattered fragments for the funeral pileThey gather up and heap them on the bier!Theseus:O mother Nature, all too potent thou!How firmly dost thou hold me by the ties1115Of blood! How thou dost force me to obeyThy will! I wished to slay my guilty son,While yet he lived; but now I mourn his loss.Messenger:One may not rightly mourn what he has willed.[24]Theseus:This is indeed the crowning woe, I think,When chance fulfils the prayers we should not make.1120Messenger:If still you hate your son, why weep for him?Theseus:Because I slew, not lost my son, I weep.

Messenger:O slavery, thou hard and bitter lot,Why must I voice these woes unspeakable?

Messenger:O slavery, thou hard and bitter lot,

Why must I voice these woes unspeakable?

Theseus:Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance;For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.

Theseus:Fear not, but boldly tell the worst mischance;

For mine a heart not unprepared for grief.

Messenger:My tongue can find no words to voice its woe.955

Theseus:But speak, what evil fortune still besetsMy shattered house?

Theseus:But speak, what evil fortune still besets

My shattered house?

Messenger:Hippolytus is dead!

Theseus:The father knew long since his son had died;But now the adulterer has met his end.Tell me, I pray, the manner of his death.

Theseus:The father knew long since his son had died;

But now the adulterer has met his end.

Tell me, I pray, the manner of his death.

Messenger:When, fleeing forth, he left the city's walls,1000With maddened speed he hurried on his way,And quickly yoked his chargers to his car,And curbed them to his will with close-drawn reins.And then, with much wild speech, and cursing loudHis native land, oft calling on his sire,1005He fiercely shook the reins above his steeds;When suddenly, far out the vast sea roared,And heaved itself to heaven. No wind was thereTo stir the sea, no quarter of the skyBroke in upon its peace; the rising wavesWere by their own peculiar tempest raised.1010No blast so great had ever stirred the straitsOf Sicily, nor had the deep e'er swelledWith such wild rage before the north wind's breath,When high cliffs trembled with the shock of waves,And hoary foam smote high Leucate's top.The sea then rose into a mighty heap,1015And, big with monstrous birth, was landward borne.For no ship's wrecking was this swelling pestIntended; landward was its aim. The floodRolled shoreward heavily, something unknownWithin its laden bosom carrying.What land, new born, will lift its head aloft?1020Is some new island of the CycladesArising? Now the rocky heights are hid,Held sacred to the Epidaurian god,And those high crags well known for Sciron's crime;No longer can be seen that land whose shoresAre washed by double seas. While in amaze1025We look in fear and wonder, suddenlyThe whole sea bellows, and on every sideThe towering cliffs re-echo with the roar;While all their tops the leaping spray bedews.The deep spouts forth and vomits up its wavesIn alternating streams, like some huge whale1030Which roves the ocean, spouting up the floods.Then did that mound of waters strongly heaveAnd break itself, and threw upon the shoreA thing more terrible than all our fears.The sea itself rushed landward, followingThat monstrous thing. I shudder at the thought.What form and bearing had the monster huge!1035A bull it was in form, with dark-green neckUplifted high, its lofty front adornedWith verdant mane. Its ears with shaggy hairWere rough; its horns with changing color flashed,Such as the lord of some fierce herd would have,Both earth and ocean-born. He vomits flames;1040With flames his fierce eyes gleam. His glossy neckGreat couch-like muscles shows, and as he breathes,His spreading nostrils quiver with the blastOf his deep panting. Breast and dewlap hangAll green with clinging moss; and on his sidesRed lichens cling. His hinder parts appear1045In monstrous shape, and like some scaly fishHis vast and shapeless members drag along;As are those monsters of the distant seasWhich swallow ships, and spout[22]them forth again.The country-side was panic stricken; herds1050In frenzied terror scattered through the fields;Nor did the herdsmen think to follow them.The wild beasts in the forest pastures fledIn all directions, and the hunters shookWith deadly fear. Hippolytus aloneWas not afraid, but curbed his frantic steeds1055With close-drawn reins, and with his well-known voiceHe cheered them on. The road to Argos[23]runsPrecipitous along the broken hills,On one side bordered by the roaring sea.Here does that massive monster whet himselfAnd kindle hot his wrath; then, when he feltHis courage strong within his breast, and whenHis power to attempt the strife he had rehearsed,1060He charged Hippolytus with headlong course,The ground scarce touching with his bounding feet;And, fearful, stopped before the trembling steeds.But this thy son, with savage countenance,Stood steadfast, threatening, before the foe.His features changed not, while he thundered loud:1065"This empty terror cannot daunt my soul,For 'twas my father's task to vanquish bulls."But straightway, disobedient to the reins,The horses hurried off the car. And now,The highway leaving, maddened by their fear,They plunged along where'er their terror led,1070And took their way among the rocky fields.But he, their driver, as some captain strongHolds straight his bark upon the boisterous sea,Lest she oppose her side against the waves,And by his art escapes the yawning floods;Not otherwise he guides the whirling car.1075For now with tight-drawn reins he curbs his steeds,And now upon their backs he plies the lash.But doggedly that monster kept along,Now running by their side, now leaping straightUpon them as they came, from every handGreat fear inspiring. Soon all further flight1080Was checked; for that dread, hornéd, ocean beastWith lowering front charged full against their course.Then, truly, did the horses, wild with fear,Break loose from all control; and from the yokeThey madly struggled to withdraw their necks,Their master hurling to their stamping feet.Headlong among the lossened reins he fell,1085His form all tangled in their clinging strands.The more he struggled to release himselfThe tighter those relentless fetters bound.The steeds perceived what they had done, and now,With empty car, and no one mastering them,They ran where terror bade. Just so, of old,Not recognizing their accustomed load,1090And hot with anger that the car of dayHad been entrusted to a spurious sun,The steeds of Phoebus hurled young PhaëthonFar through the airs of heaven in wandering course.Now far and wide he stains the fields with blood,His head rebounding from the smitten rocks.The bramble thickets pluck away his hair,1095And that fair face is bruised upon the stones.His fatal beauty which had been his bane,Is ruined now by many a wound. His limbsAre dragged along upon the flying wheels.At last, his bleeding trunk upon a charredAnd pointed stake is caught, pierced through the groin;And for a little, by its master held,1100The car stood still. The horses by that woundWere held awhile, but soon they break delay—And break their master too. While on they rush,The whipping branches cut his dying form,The rough and thorny brambles tear his flesh,And every bush retains its part of him.Now bands of servants scour those woeful fields,1105Those places where Hippolytus was dragged,And where his bloody trail directs the way;And sorrowing dogs trace out their master's limbs.But not as yet has all this careful toilOf grieving friends sufficed to gather all.1110And has it come to this, that glorious form?But now the partner of his father's realm,And his acknowledged heir, illustrious youth,Who shone refulgent like the stars—beholdHis scattered fragments for the funeral pileThey gather up and heap them on the bier!

Messenger:When, fleeing forth, he left the city's walls,1000

With maddened speed he hurried on his way,

And quickly yoked his chargers to his car,

And curbed them to his will with close-drawn reins.

And then, with much wild speech, and cursing loud

His native land, oft calling on his sire,1005

He fiercely shook the reins above his steeds;

When suddenly, far out the vast sea roared,

And heaved itself to heaven. No wind was there

To stir the sea, no quarter of the sky

Broke in upon its peace; the rising waves

Were by their own peculiar tempest raised.1010

No blast so great had ever stirred the straits

Of Sicily, nor had the deep e'er swelled

With such wild rage before the north wind's breath,

When high cliffs trembled with the shock of waves,

And hoary foam smote high Leucate's top.

The sea then rose into a mighty heap,1015

And, big with monstrous birth, was landward borne.

For no ship's wrecking was this swelling pest

Intended; landward was its aim. The flood

Rolled shoreward heavily, something unknown

Within its laden bosom carrying.

What land, new born, will lift its head aloft?1020

Is some new island of the Cyclades

Arising? Now the rocky heights are hid,

Held sacred to the Epidaurian god,

And those high crags well known for Sciron's crime;

No longer can be seen that land whose shores

Are washed by double seas. While in amaze1025

We look in fear and wonder, suddenly

The whole sea bellows, and on every side

The towering cliffs re-echo with the roar;

While all their tops the leaping spray bedews.

The deep spouts forth and vomits up its waves

In alternating streams, like some huge whale1030

Which roves the ocean, spouting up the floods.

Then did that mound of waters strongly heave

And break itself, and threw upon the shore

A thing more terrible than all our fears.

The sea itself rushed landward, following

That monstrous thing. I shudder at the thought.

What form and bearing had the monster huge!1035

A bull it was in form, with dark-green neck

Uplifted high, its lofty front adorned

With verdant mane. Its ears with shaggy hair

Were rough; its horns with changing color flashed,

Such as the lord of some fierce herd would have,

Both earth and ocean-born. He vomits flames;1040

With flames his fierce eyes gleam. His glossy neck

Great couch-like muscles shows, and as he breathes,

His spreading nostrils quiver with the blast

Of his deep panting. Breast and dewlap hang

All green with clinging moss; and on his sides

Red lichens cling. His hinder parts appear1045

In monstrous shape, and like some scaly fish

His vast and shapeless members drag along;

As are those monsters of the distant seas

Which swallow ships, and spout[22]them forth again.

The country-side was panic stricken; herds1050

In frenzied terror scattered through the fields;

Nor did the herdsmen think to follow them.

The wild beasts in the forest pastures fled

In all directions, and the hunters shook

With deadly fear. Hippolytus alone

Was not afraid, but curbed his frantic steeds1055

With close-drawn reins, and with his well-known voice

He cheered them on. The road to Argos[23]runs

Precipitous along the broken hills,

On one side bordered by the roaring sea.

Here does that massive monster whet himself

And kindle hot his wrath; then, when he felt

His courage strong within his breast, and when

His power to attempt the strife he had rehearsed,1060

He charged Hippolytus with headlong course,

The ground scarce touching with his bounding feet;

And, fearful, stopped before the trembling steeds.

But this thy son, with savage countenance,

Stood steadfast, threatening, before the foe.

His features changed not, while he thundered loud:1065

"This empty terror cannot daunt my soul,

For 'twas my father's task to vanquish bulls."

But straightway, disobedient to the reins,

The horses hurried off the car. And now,

The highway leaving, maddened by their fear,

They plunged along where'er their terror led,1070

And took their way among the rocky fields.

But he, their driver, as some captain strong

Holds straight his bark upon the boisterous sea,

Lest she oppose her side against the waves,

And by his art escapes the yawning floods;

Not otherwise he guides the whirling car.1075

For now with tight-drawn reins he curbs his steeds,

And now upon their backs he plies the lash.

But doggedly that monster kept along,

Now running by their side, now leaping straight

Upon them as they came, from every hand

Great fear inspiring. Soon all further flight1080

Was checked; for that dread, hornéd, ocean beast

With lowering front charged full against their course.

Then, truly, did the horses, wild with fear,

Break loose from all control; and from the yoke

They madly struggled to withdraw their necks,

Their master hurling to their stamping feet.

Headlong among the lossened reins he fell,1085

His form all tangled in their clinging strands.

The more he struggled to release himself

The tighter those relentless fetters bound.

The steeds perceived what they had done, and now,

With empty car, and no one mastering them,

They ran where terror bade. Just so, of old,

Not recognizing their accustomed load,1090

And hot with anger that the car of day

Had been entrusted to a spurious sun,

The steeds of Phoebus hurled young Phaëthon

Far through the airs of heaven in wandering course.

Now far and wide he stains the fields with blood,

His head rebounding from the smitten rocks.

The bramble thickets pluck away his hair,1095

And that fair face is bruised upon the stones.

His fatal beauty which had been his bane,

Is ruined now by many a wound. His limbs

Are dragged along upon the flying wheels.

At last, his bleeding trunk upon a charred

And pointed stake is caught, pierced through the groin;

And for a little, by its master held,1100

The car stood still. The horses by that wound

Were held awhile, but soon they break delay—

And break their master too. While on they rush,

The whipping branches cut his dying form,

The rough and thorny brambles tear his flesh,

And every bush retains its part of him.

Now bands of servants scour those woeful fields,1105

Those places where Hippolytus was dragged,

And where his bloody trail directs the way;

And sorrowing dogs trace out their master's limbs.

But not as yet has all this careful toil

Of grieving friends sufficed to gather all.1110

And has it come to this, that glorious form?

But now the partner of his father's realm,

And his acknowledged heir, illustrious youth,

Who shone refulgent like the stars—behold

His scattered fragments for the funeral pile

They gather up and heap them on the bier!

Theseus:O mother Nature, all too potent thou!How firmly dost thou hold me by the ties1115Of blood! How thou dost force me to obeyThy will! I wished to slay my guilty son,While yet he lived; but now I mourn his loss.

Theseus:O mother Nature, all too potent thou!

How firmly dost thou hold me by the ties1115

Of blood! How thou dost force me to obey

Thy will! I wished to slay my guilty son,

While yet he lived; but now I mourn his loss.

Messenger:One may not rightly mourn what he has willed.[24]

Theseus:This is indeed the crowning woe, I think,When chance fulfils the prayers we should not make.1120

Theseus:This is indeed the crowning woe, I think,

When chance fulfils the prayers we should not make.1120

Messenger:If still you hate your son, why weep for him?

Theseus:Because I slew, not lost my son, I weep.

Chorus:How on the wheel of circumstanceWe mortals whirl! 'Gainst humble folkDoes fate more gently rage, and GodMore lightly smites the lightly blest.1125A life in dim retirement spentInsures a peaceful soul; and heWho in a lowly cottage dwellsMay live to tranquil age at last.The mountain tops that pierce the skies,Feel all the stormy winds that blow,Fierce Eurus, Notus, and the threatsOf Boreas, and Corus too,1130Storm bringer.The vale low lying seldom feelsThe thunder's stroke; but Caucasus,The huge, and the lofty Phrygian grovesOf mother Cybele have feltThe bolts of Jove the Thunderer.1135For Jupiter in jealousyAttacks the heights too near his skies;But never is the humble roofUptorn by jealous heaven's assaults.Round mighty kings and homes of kings1140He thunders.The passing hour on doubtful wingsFlits ever; nor may any claimSwift Fortune's pledge. Behold our king,Who sees at last the glowing starsAnd light of day, the gloom of hellBehind him left, a sad return1145Laments; for this his welcome homeHe finds more sorrowful by farThan dismal, dark Avernus' self.O Pallas, by the Athenian raceIn reverence held, that once againThy Theseus sees the light of day,1150And has escaped the pools of Styx,Thou owest naught to greedy Dis;For still the number of the shadesWithin the infernal tyrant's powerRemains the same.But why the sounds of wailing that we hear?And what would Phaedra with her naked sword?1155

Chorus:How on the wheel of circumstance

We mortals whirl! 'Gainst humble folk

Does fate more gently rage, and God

More lightly smites the lightly blest.1125

A life in dim retirement spent

Insures a peaceful soul; and he

Who in a lowly cottage dwells

May live to tranquil age at last.

The mountain tops that pierce the skies,

Feel all the stormy winds that blow,

Fierce Eurus, Notus, and the threats

Of Boreas, and Corus too,1130

Storm bringer.

The vale low lying seldom feels

The thunder's stroke; but Caucasus,

The huge, and the lofty Phrygian groves

Of mother Cybele have felt

The bolts of Jove the Thunderer.1135

For Jupiter in jealousy

Attacks the heights too near his skies;

But never is the humble roof

Uptorn by jealous heaven's assaults.

Round mighty kings and homes of kings1140

He thunders.

The passing hour on doubtful wings

Flits ever; nor may any claim

Swift Fortune's pledge. Behold our king,

Who sees at last the glowing stars

And light of day, the gloom of hell

Behind him left, a sad return1145

Laments; for this his welcome home

He finds more sorrowful by far

Than dismal, dark Avernus' self.

O Pallas, by the Athenian race

In reverence held, that once again

Thy Theseus sees the light of day,1150

And has escaped the pools of Styx,

Thou owest naught to greedy Dis;

For still the number of the shades

Within the infernal tyrant's power

Remains the same.

But why the sounds of wailing that we hear?

And what would Phaedra with her naked sword?1155

FOOTNOTES:[22]Reading,reddit.[23]Reading,Argos.[24]Reading,haud quisquam honeste flere, quod voluit, potest.

[22]Reading,reddit.

[23]Reading,Argos.

[24]Reading,haud quisquam honeste flere, quod voluit, potest.

[EnterPhaedrawith a drawn sword in her hand.]

Theseus[toPhaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief?What means that sword? or why these loud laments?Why weepest thou above the hated corpse?Phaedra:Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep,Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes1160That breed within the caverns of the sea,Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals,And ocean hides within his wandering waves.O Theseus, always ill of omen thou!Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned,Since son and father by their death have paid1165For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own houseArt the destroyer; ever baneful thou,Whether in love or hatred of thy wives.[Turning to the mangled corpse.]Hippolytus, is this thy face I see?Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild,What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee?1170What Cretan bull-man, filling all the caveOf Daedalus with his vast bellowings,Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns?Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright,Thy eyes, my stars? Dost thou all lifeless lie?Come back a little while and hear my words.1175'Tis nothing base I speak. With my own handI'll make thee full atonement, and will plungeThe avenging sword within my sinful breast,And so be free from life and guilt at once.Thee will I follow through Tartarean pools.Across the Styx, through streams of liquid fire.1180Let me appease the spirit of the dead.Accept the spoils I offer, take this lockTorn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not rightTo join our souls in life; but surely nowWe may by death unite our fates.[To herself.]Now die,If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord;But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake.1185Is't meet that I should live and seek againMy husband's couch, by such foul incest stained?This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure,Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified.O death, thou only cure for evil love,For injured chastity the last resort:I fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms.1190Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear,Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn.The crime, which I myself within my heart,With passion mad, conceived, I basely chargedTo him. An empty vengeance hast thou wroughtUpon thy son; for he in chastity,1195Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstainedAnd innocent.[ToHippolytus.]Regain thine honor now;Behold my impious breast awaits the strokeOf justice, and my blood makes sacrificeUnto the spirit of a guiltless man.[ToTheseus.]How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son,Learn now from me—and seek the Acheron.1200

Theseus[toPhaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief?What means that sword? or why these loud laments?Why weepest thou above the hated corpse?

Theseus[toPhaedra]: What madness pricks thee on, all wild with grief?

What means that sword? or why these loud laments?

Why weepest thou above the hated corpse?

Phaedra:Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep,Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes1160That breed within the caverns of the sea,Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals,And ocean hides within his wandering waves.O Theseus, always ill of omen thou!Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned,Since son and father by their death have paid1165For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own houseArt the destroyer; ever baneful thou,Whether in love or hatred of thy wives.[Turning to the mangled corpse.]Hippolytus, is this thy face I see?Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild,What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee?1170What Cretan bull-man, filling all the caveOf Daedalus with his vast bellowings,Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns?Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright,Thy eyes, my stars? Dost thou all lifeless lie?Come back a little while and hear my words.1175'Tis nothing base I speak. With my own handI'll make thee full atonement, and will plungeThe avenging sword within my sinful breast,And so be free from life and guilt at once.Thee will I follow through Tartarean pools.Across the Styx, through streams of liquid fire.1180Let me appease the spirit of the dead.Accept the spoils I offer, take this lockTorn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not rightTo join our souls in life; but surely nowWe may by death unite our fates.[To herself.]Now die,If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord;But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake.1185Is't meet that I should live and seek againMy husband's couch, by such foul incest stained?This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure,Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified.O death, thou only cure for evil love,For injured chastity the last resort:I fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms.1190Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear,Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn.The crime, which I myself within my heart,With passion mad, conceived, I basely chargedTo him. An empty vengeance hast thou wroughtUpon thy son; for he in chastity,1195Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstainedAnd innocent.[ToHippolytus.]Regain thine honor now;Behold my impious breast awaits the strokeOf justice, and my blood makes sacrificeUnto the spirit of a guiltless man.[ToTheseus.]How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son,Learn now from me—and seek the Acheron.1200

Phaedra:Me, me, O savage ruler of the deep,

Attack; against me send the monstrous shapes1160

That breed within the caverns of the sea,

Whatever Tethys in her heart conceals,

And ocean hides within his wandering waves.

O Theseus, always ill of omen thou!

Oh, never to thy loved ones safe returned,

Since son and father by their death have paid1165

For thy home-coming. Thou of thine own house

Art the destroyer; ever baneful thou,

Whether in love or hatred of thy wives.

[Turning to the mangled corpse.]

Hippolytus, is this thy face I see?

Have I brought thee to this? What Sinis wild,

What pitiless Procrustes mangled thee?1170

What Cretan bull-man, filling all the cave

Of Daedalus with his vast bellowings,

Has rent thee thus upon his savage horns?

Ah me! where now is fled thy beauty bright,

Thy eyes, my stars? Dost thou all lifeless lie?

Come back a little while and hear my words.1175

'Tis nothing base I speak. With my own hand

I'll make thee full atonement, and will plunge

The avenging sword within my sinful breast,

And so be free from life and guilt at once.

Thee will I follow through Tartarean pools.

Across the Styx, through streams of liquid fire.1180

Let me appease the spirit of the dead.

Accept the spoils I offer, take this lock

Torn from my bleeding forehead. 'Twas not right

To join our souls in life; but surely now

We may by death unite our fates.

[To herself.]

Now die,

If thou art undefiled, to appease thy lord;

But if defiled, die for thy lover's sake.1185

Is't meet that I should live and seek again

My husband's couch, by such foul incest stained?

This wrong was lacking still, that, as if pure,

Thou shouldst enjoy that union, justified.

O death, thou only cure for evil love,

For injured chastity the last resort:

I fly to thee; spread wide thy soothing arms.1190

Hear me, O Athens; thou, O father, hear,

Thou worse than stepdame: I have falsely sworn.

The crime, which I myself within my heart,

With passion mad, conceived, I basely charged

To him. An empty vengeance hast thou wrought

Upon thy son; for he in chastity,1195

Through fault of the unchaste, lies there, unstained

And innocent.

[ToHippolytus.]

Regain thine honor now;

Behold my impious breast awaits the stroke

Of justice, and my blood makes sacrifice

Unto the spirit of a guiltless man.

[ToTheseus.]

How thou mayst recompense thy murdered son,

Learn now from me—and seek the Acheron.1200

[She falls upon her sword and dies.]

Theseus:Ye jaws of wan Avernus, and ye cavesOf Taenara, ye floods of Lethe's stream,A soothing balm to hearts o'ercome with grief,Ye sluggish pools: take ye my impious soulAnd plunge me deep in your eternal woes.Now come, ye savage monsters of the deep,Whatever Proteus hides within his caves,1205And drown me in your pools, me who rejoiceIn crime so hideous. O father, thouWho ever dost too readily assentUnto my wrathful prayers, I merit notAn easy death, who on my son have broughtA death so strange, and scattered through the fieldsHis mangled limbs; who, while, as austere judge,I sought to punish evil falsely charged,1210Have fallen myself into the pit of crime.For heaven, hell, and seas have by my sinsBeen peopled; now no further lot remains;Three kingdoms know me now. Was it for thisThat I returned? Was heaven's light restoredTo me that I might see two funerals,A double death? That I, bereft of wife1215And son, should with one torch upon the pyreConsume them both? Thou giver of the lightWhich has so baleful proved, O, Hercules,Take back thy boon, and give me up againTo Dis; restore me to the curséd shadesWhom I escaped. Oh, impious, in vainI call upon that death I left behind.1220Thou bloody man, well skilled in deadly arts,Who hast contrived unwonted ways of deathAnd terrible, now deal unto thyselfThe fitting punishment. Let some great pineBe bent to earth and hurl thee high in air;Or let me headlong leap from Sciron's cliff.1225More dreadful punishments have I beheld,Which Phlegethon upon the guilty soulsEncircled by his fiery stream inflicts.What suffering awaits me, and what place,Full well I know. Make room, ye guilty shades;On me, me only, let that rock be placed,The everlasting toil of Sisyphus,1230And let these wearied hands upbear its weight;Let cooling waters lap and mock my lips;Let that fell vulture fly from Tityos,And let my vitals ever living beFor punishment. And thou, Ixion, sire1235Of my Pirithoüs, take rest awhile,And let the wheel that never stops its flightBear these my limbs upon its whirling rim.Now yawn, O earth, and chaos dire, receive,I pray, receive me to your depths; for thus'Tis fitting that I journey to the shades.I go to meet my son. And fear thou not,1240Thou king of dead men's souls; I come in peaceTo that eternal home, whence ne'er againShall I come forth.My prayers move not the gods.But if some impious plea I made to them,How ready would they be to grant my prayer!Chorus:Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn.Now pay the funeral honors due thy son,1245And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.Theseus:Then hither bring the pitiful remainsOf that dear corpse, and heap together hereThat shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs.Is this Hippolytus? I realizeMy depth of crime, for I have murdered thee.1250And lest but once and I alone should sin,A parent, bent to do an impious thing,My father did I summon to my aid.Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy.O childlessness, a bitter loss art thouFor broken age! But come, embrace his limbs,Whatever of thy hapless son is left,And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast.1255Arrange in order those dismembered parts,And to their proper place restore them. HereHis brave right hand should be. Place here the left,Well trained to curb his horses with the reins.The marks of his left side I recognize;1260And yet how large a part is lacking stillUnto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands,To do the last sad offices of grief;Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears,While I count o'er the members of my son,And lay his body out for burial.1265What is this shapeless piece, on all sides tornWith many a wound? I know not what it is,Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down.Not in its own, but in an empty place.That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed,That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes,1270Has that bright beauty come to this? O fate,How bitter! Deadly favor of the gods!And is it thus my son comes back to meIn answer to my prayers? These final ritesThy father pays, receive, O thou my son,Who often to thy funeral must be borne.And now let fires consume these dear remains.Throw open wide my palace, dark with death,1275And let all Athens ring with loud laments.Do some of you prepare the royal pyre,And others seek yet farther in the fieldsHis scattered parts.[Pointing toPhaedra'scorpse.]Let earth on her be spread,And may it heavy rest upon her head.1280

Theseus:Ye jaws of wan Avernus, and ye caves

Of Taenara, ye floods of Lethe's stream,

A soothing balm to hearts o'ercome with grief,

Ye sluggish pools: take ye my impious soul

And plunge me deep in your eternal woes.

Now come, ye savage monsters of the deep,

Whatever Proteus hides within his caves,1205

And drown me in your pools, me who rejoice

In crime so hideous. O father, thou

Who ever dost too readily assent

Unto my wrathful prayers, I merit not

An easy death, who on my son have brought

A death so strange, and scattered through the fields

His mangled limbs; who, while, as austere judge,

I sought to punish evil falsely charged,1210

Have fallen myself into the pit of crime.

For heaven, hell, and seas have by my sins

Been peopled; now no further lot remains;

Three kingdoms know me now. Was it for this

That I returned? Was heaven's light restored

To me that I might see two funerals,

A double death? That I, bereft of wife1215

And son, should with one torch upon the pyre

Consume them both? Thou giver of the light

Which has so baleful proved, O, Hercules,

Take back thy boon, and give me up again

To Dis; restore me to the curséd shades

Whom I escaped. Oh, impious, in vain

I call upon that death I left behind.1220

Thou bloody man, well skilled in deadly arts,

Who hast contrived unwonted ways of death

And terrible, now deal unto thyself

The fitting punishment. Let some great pine

Be bent to earth and hurl thee high in air;

Or let me headlong leap from Sciron's cliff.1225

More dreadful punishments have I beheld,

Which Phlegethon upon the guilty souls

Encircled by his fiery stream inflicts.

What suffering awaits me, and what place,

Full well I know. Make room, ye guilty shades;

On me, me only, let that rock be placed,

The everlasting toil of Sisyphus,1230

And let these wearied hands upbear its weight;

Let cooling waters lap and mock my lips;

Let that fell vulture fly from Tityos,

And let my vitals ever living be

For punishment. And thou, Ixion, sire1235

Of my Pirithoüs, take rest awhile,

And let the wheel that never stops its flight

Bear these my limbs upon its whirling rim.

Now yawn, O earth, and chaos dire, receive,

I pray, receive me to your depths; for thus

'Tis fitting that I journey to the shades.

I go to meet my son. And fear thou not,1240

Thou king of dead men's souls; I come in peace

To that eternal home, whence ne'er again

Shall I come forth.

My prayers move not the gods.

But if some impious plea I made to them,

How ready would they be to grant my prayer!

Chorus:Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn.Now pay the funeral honors due thy son,1245And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.

Chorus:Theseus, thou hast unending time to mourn.

Now pay the funeral honors due thy son,1245

And bury these poor torn and scattered limbs.

Theseus:Then hither bring the pitiful remainsOf that dear corpse, and heap together hereThat shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs.Is this Hippolytus? I realizeMy depth of crime, for I have murdered thee.1250And lest but once and I alone should sin,A parent, bent to do an impious thing,My father did I summon to my aid.Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy.O childlessness, a bitter loss art thouFor broken age! But come, embrace his limbs,Whatever of thy hapless son is left,And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast.1255Arrange in order those dismembered parts,And to their proper place restore them. HereHis brave right hand should be. Place here the left,Well trained to curb his horses with the reins.The marks of his left side I recognize;1260And yet how large a part is lacking stillUnto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands,To do the last sad offices of grief;Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears,While I count o'er the members of my son,And lay his body out for burial.1265What is this shapeless piece, on all sides tornWith many a wound? I know not what it is,Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down.Not in its own, but in an empty place.That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed,That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes,1270Has that bright beauty come to this? O fate,How bitter! Deadly favor of the gods!And is it thus my son comes back to meIn answer to my prayers? These final ritesThy father pays, receive, O thou my son,Who often to thy funeral must be borne.And now let fires consume these dear remains.Throw open wide my palace, dark with death,1275And let all Athens ring with loud laments.Do some of you prepare the royal pyre,And others seek yet farther in the fieldsHis scattered parts.[Pointing toPhaedra'scorpse.]Let earth on her be spread,And may it heavy rest upon her head.1280

Theseus:Then hither bring the pitiful remains

Of that dear corpse, and heap together here

That shapeless mass of flesh, those mangled limbs.

Is this Hippolytus? I realize

My depth of crime, for I have murdered thee.1250

And lest but once and I alone should sin,

A parent, bent to do an impious thing,

My father did I summon to my aid.

Behold, my father's boon do I enjoy.

O childlessness, a bitter loss art thou

For broken age! But come, embrace his limbs,

Whatever of thy hapless son is left,

And clasp them, wretched father, to thy breast.1255

Arrange in order those dismembered parts,

And to their proper place restore them. Here

His brave right hand should be. Place here the left,

Well trained to curb his horses with the reins.

The marks of his left side I recognize;1260

And yet how large a part is lacking still

Unto our tears. Be firm, ye trembling hands,

To do the last sad offices of grief;

Be dry, my cheeks, and stay your flowing tears,

While I count o'er the members of my son,

And lay his body out for burial.1265

What is this shapeless piece, on all sides torn

With many a wound? I know not what it is,

Save that 'tis part of thee. Here lay it down.

Not in its own, but in an empty place.

That face, that once with starry splendor gleamed,

That softened by its grace e'en foemen's eyes,1270

Has that bright beauty come to this? O fate,

How bitter! Deadly favor of the gods!

And is it thus my son comes back to me

In answer to my prayers? These final rites

Thy father pays, receive, O thou my son,

Who often to thy funeral must be borne.

And now let fires consume these dear remains.

Throw open wide my palace, dark with death,1275

And let all Athens ring with loud laments.

Do some of you prepare the royal pyre,

And others seek yet farther in the fields

His scattered parts.

[Pointing toPhaedra'scorpse.]

Let earth on her be spread,

And may it heavy rest upon her head.1280

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

The sceneis laid, first in Euboea, and later at the home of Hercules in Trachin.

The long, heroic life of Hercules has neared its end. His twelve great tasks, assigned him by Eurystheus through Juno's hatred, have been done. His latest victory was over Eurytus, king of Oechalia. Him he slew and overthrew his house, because the monarch would not give him Iole to wife.

And now the hero, having overcome the world, and Pluto's realm beneath the earth, aspires to heaven. He sacrifices to Cenaean Jove, and prays at last to be received into his proper home.

[On the Cenaean promontory of the island of Euboea.]

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